


Beauty of the Beast

by missingnolovefic



Series: Terms and Conditions Apply [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, Fluff and Feels, Gen, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Misunderstandings, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, SO MUCH FLUFF, Werewolf!Jeremy, phoenix!Lindsay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 17:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7324222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingnolovefic/pseuds/missingnolovefic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeremy was bitten young and doesn't know his place in the world. Then he goes and imprints on Lindsay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty of the Beast

**Author's Note:**

> This is all Lena's fault (quote: "[...]then she unconsciously treats him as EVEN MORE FLOCK AW BEST FLOCK and poor Jeremy's just culture shocked[...]") and all the blame for the pack vs flock scenes is to be laid squarely at her feet. All her ideas, I just wrote them out and stuffed them in here.

Jeremy was bitten when he was eight years old.

He only remembers that night in flashes. The bad men came during dinner- spaghetti with meatballs, he knows, because later he couldn’t tell blood from the red sauce. His parents had been terrified, and his mom had shoved him under the table, trying to hide him from view with her flowing skirt.

He doesn’t recall how many there were, just huge, towering figures with guns and the scary man with the cigar.

“Ah, Mr. Dooley. Didn’t mean to interrupt your meal,” cigar-man growled, and in his childish imagination Jeremy thought he saw his eyes flash red. “If you’ll just pay up your debt, we’ll leave you and your lovely wife to it.”

“We don’t have the money, please,” Jeremy’s dad begged and the memory grew hazy there. Jeremy only remembers the tense silence and his mom’s shaking hands twisted into the folds of her skirt.

There was a shot, and then Jeremy’s dad crumbled to the floor.

“The boss gets tired of your excuses, Dooley.” The scary man tsked. “We’re here to teach you a valuable lesson, see?”

He doesn’t know when the men found him. He dreams of his mom crying, his dad bleeding on the floor, clutching his leg- and then there was a strong grip on his arm and he got dragged out from under the table. His mom begged the bad men to leave him alone, but the scary man extinguished his cigar by rubbing it into his dad’s face, eyes never leaving Jeremy’s.

“You should be grateful,” the man explained, his voice distant, like Jeremy’s ears were underwater. “We’ll make sure the son doesn’t repeat the mistakes of the father.”

And then- pain. He screamed his throat sore and the world ran red, his mom’s sobbing and his dad’s pleading like background music.

 

* * *

 

Over the years the faces and names change, their affiliations as fluid as the sum of money they demand. But once a month they come to call.

_For protection._

And once a month his parents lock him in the basement.

_For safety._

Rationally, he knows it’s for the best. But a part of him can’t help it, he resents their caution. The way the stink of fear clings to their clothes the days leading up to the full moon.

The bite has scarred high on his neck, impossible to hide. A testament of what he was- what he _is_. Even a decade after he was turned, he still struggles with the consequences. He can’t keep a steady job, and when he helps with the family business it’s behind the scenes, where customers won’t get scared off by the Big Bad Wolf.

Jeremy suppresses a growl, new smells hitting his nose. There has been a recent upheaval in their neighborhood - a new group chasing out the old ones. Jeremy stopped caring a long time ago, accepting it as a part of life. He can’t do anything about it without fear of retaliation.

The wolf inside him just wants to tear them apart. Strangers intruding on _his_ territory, threatening _his_ parents-

He forces himself away from the window, following the caramel-and-burnt-wood scent into the kitchen. He should leave, but his inner wolf bristles at the mere suggestion of leaving his mom vulnerable. He watches her for a moment, taking in her relaxed form as she rolls the dough. Her skirts and apron are white with flour, as is the tip of her braid.

“Mom,” Jeremy says, and she flinches, startling around in a cloud of flour. He grimaces. “We’re having guests in a minute.”

Her pale face settles into a blank mask. She nods, wiping her hands in her apron with little success.

“Be a dear and get the red box,” she says, her voice shaking. There’s a smudge of dough on her cheek and her eyes are wild. A grumble fights its way out of his chest, and she flinches again.

Jeremy turns on his heel and stalks off to get the box.

As he returns, he is met with a new set of smells - sea water, smoke and steel. He stops in the doorway and surveys the scene. Two guys with guns in their waistbands stand to either side of the door, hands crossed in front of them. And at the table sits a woman with short red hair. Her eyes flicker to him, and she cocks her head.

Jeremy snarls instinctively.

The woman raises a brow and clucks her tongue in displeasure, before turning her attention back to his mom. Jeremy blinks, shaking his head. Carefully he circles around, giving the grunts a wide berth. He sets down the box by his mom’s elbow, before retreating to the kitchen counter to observe. His mom is wringing her hands in her lap, the red-head calmly tapping her fingers against the table.

“See, I think you’ve been dealt an unfair hand,” she continues their earlier talk, and Jeremy frowns. “Your shop keeps you barely afloat, and you’ve had trouble meeting deadlines before. I understand that… _prior_ management has taken strict measures to ensure your… _cooperation._ ”

Her eyes flick over to Jeremy, and he growls warningly. It’s the most he can do here - if he intimidates new enforcers enough they might back off their demands a little, but if he comes across as too threatening they’ll put him down. _Like a rabid dog_ , the memory echoes.

One of the henchmen twitches, hand resting on his gun in a clear threat. The woman raises her hand to stop him, keeping her sharp eyes fixed on Jeremy. He can feel his hackles rise in response.

“Admittedly, I had wondered how you could have such… _trouble_ when by all accounts your son has grown up into a fine man.” She gives him a crooked smile. “I can see the problem now.”

“Please,” his mom pleads, leaning forward and grabbing the woman’s hand. “We will find a way to pay you, just- please, just leave my boy out of it.”

The woman gently disentangles herself from his mom’s grip, patting her hand reassuringly. Then she stands up, slowly ambling around the table, gaze locked with his. The wolf rises in challenge, and he’s sure his eyes must be glowing amber from the way his mom ducks her head. The woman merely stares at him, a good three feet between them.

Jeremy licks his lips nervously.

The woman smiles.

“Poor pup,” she coos, slowly raising a hand, holding it still several inches in front of his face. He glances at her in askance, eyes lingering on the outstretched hand, then flickering to the gunmen behind her.

As he turns his head away, her hand settles on his cheek, and he instinctively nuzzles into the touch. Her fingers trail down to his jaw and circle the bitemark. He whines lightly and leans back, exposing his throat. There’s a sharp inhale from one of the men, but he can’t tell who, his entire attention focused on the lady.

“Bitten young, weren’t you?” she muses, petting his neck. “Packless, too. Poor puppy, you must be so scared. Such a brave boy,” she coos, and it settles as a warm glow in his chest.

“Please,” his mother chokes out, standing up so quickly the chair clatters to the floor. “Anything you want, just…”

She trails off as the lady’s heavy gaze falls on her.

“Don’t worry, Mrs Dooley,” she hums soothingly, and Jeremy feels the tension melt from the room. “I’m sure we can come to an… acceptable agreement for all involved.”

His mother gives him an uncertain look, but Jeremy only has eyes for the lady. She backs off, turning around to sit down primly in the chair. He follows her, a confused whine sticking in his throat. One of the grunts chuckles, and Jeremy’s head snaps up. He bares his teeth, but the gunman simply raises an eyebrow.

The lady’s hand settles on his arm, and he returns his attention back to her and his mother, calming down instantly.

“Now then,” she chirps, absent-mindedly petting Jeremy’s arm, “Let’s talk.”

 

* * *

 

In a way Jeremy imprinted on Lindsay that fateful day. She presented him to Ramsey- to Geoff- _alpha-_ and gave him a pack. He’s never had a pack before, people who aren’t scared of the wolf, people who can keep up with him. He developes new instincts, has to learn how to interact with others all over again.

And through it all Lindsay is at his side, soothing his fears and nudging him along. She teaches him to trust his instincts and the other’s how to handle him.

It doesn’t feel like a leash. More like she finally gives him room to be _himself,_ fully and truly.

She seems to know when to back off and when to press forward. However, even with her endless patience they still run into misunderstandings now and then.

 

* * *

 

Jeremy learns quickly that Lindsay is something of a mother-hen.

She brings him food whenever possible. At first he strikes it up to him being poor and her just looking out for him. But then he notices that she does the same for everyone in their little pack. Food is distributed evenly among them, and even Geoff gets nagged until he eats a bite.

Which leaves him with something of a dilemma.

Lindsay will put food in front of him and watch him with sharp eyes until he has eaten to her satisfaction. And he tries, he really does, afraid to disappoint her. But it leaves his stomach in turmoil, feeling queasy as he hesitantly takes small bites under her watchful gaze.

The second she turns around or leaves the room, he’ll gulp down the entire meal, ravenous.

However, while she looks on he can only nibble guiltily at whatever delicacy she brought him that day. He feels stupid, making a big deal over something so simple. He’s never had a problem with someone watching him eat, and it doesn’t bother him when they’re all sharing a meal together.

It’s only when she offers him some food while they’re alone that his throat constricts and his stomach turns over.

“Lindsay, I-” He gulps, the rare steak smelling delicious, his mouth already starting to water. His stomach feels heavy. “I can’t- thank you,  really, but I-”

He drops his gaze to the floor and whines, disappointed with himself. Lindsay sits down next to him, warm and heavy where she leans into him. It settles him down, somewhat. Fingers card through his hair, and he bares his throat, the gesture second nature by this point.

“Oh, little J,” she sighs, but keeps petting him. “What’s wrong? Are you coming down with something?”

Lindsay presses the back of her hand against his forehead and frowns worriedly. Jeremy whimpers, ducking his head miserably.

“It’s just- I can’t eat when… when you watch.”

“Oh,” Lindsay says, looking at him blankly, before, “Oh! Yes, that makes sense- I’m sorry, little J, I should have noticed sooner…”

Jeremy looks up, startled. Lindsay smiles at him apologetically, grabbing the cutlery and cutting the steak into neat squares. Jeremy watches, confused, as she picks one of the pieces with the fork and… eats it herself? While she’s still chewing, she pierces the next piece of meat and offers it to him. Jeremy blinks, hesitantly leaning forward and gingerly taking the bite, waiting for his stomach to rebel.

Nothing happens.

He ducks his head and leans back quickly, chewing thoughtfully. The steak is of higher quality than anything he’s ever had and literally melts on his tongue. Jeremy glances at Lindsay from under his lashes, and she beams brightly at him.

“Good?” she chirrups, cocking her head. He nods tentatively. With a gleeful titter, she continues to feed him, but every time she takes a bite first. Slowly, Jeremy relaxes, slumping into Lindsay’s side drowsily.

 

* * *

 

“C’mere, pup,” Lindsay coos sleepily, patting the couch cushion beside her. Jeremy rounds the table slowly, eyes averted in what he now realizes is a sign of submission to the pack beta. It took him a while to figure these new instincts out, and some days are more of a struggle than others. Gingerly, he sits down next to Lindsay, shoulders hunched in an attempt to appear small and non-threatening.

Lindsay chuckles, her hand settling on his nape like a warm anchor. She coaxes him to lie down, head in her lap, and Jeremy closes his eyes as she cards fingers through his hair. Her other hand settles on his stomach, scratching him now and then absent-mindedly.

“Good boy,” she twitters, resorting the strands of his hair. A rumble works its way through his chest, and Lindsay pauses, peering down at him curiously. He opens one eye to look back up at her, before turning his head and nuzzling her stomach. He takes a deep breath, the familiar scent of smoke and fire and _pack_ filling his nose, his muscles going lax.

Lindsay titters a giggle and continues petting him.

 

* * *

 

The first time he’s allowed out on a heist, they’re robbing a jewelry store. The shop’s in their rival’s territory, and every single one of his instincts goes highwire. He’s highly alert and one wrong move away from snapping, but Michael’s distracted by the rush of crime and Gavin only eggs him on.

If it weren’t for Ray providing them cover fire, they might have ended up in police custody.

But as it is they return home victorious and in high spirits, sprawling across the den and inspecting their ill-gotten goods. Jeremy patiently waits until the others have chosen a piece each, before carefully sorting through the necklaces and rings, comparing them with a critical eye.

He smells them before they enter, his head snapping up and around, alerting the others to the alpha’s presence. The other lads shout and yell, and Jeremy is swept up in the excitement, yowling along to the commotion. Jack breaks out the good moonshine, real high quality stuff, and Geoff even ruffles Jeremy’s hair where he’s sitting on the floor next to the couch.

“Good boy,” he praises, and Jeremy preens.

And as the others get wasted, Jeremy only nips at his drink, craning his head. The lads are deep into their third retelling of their heists, details blown out of proportion and dramatic pauses entirely exaggerated that it has little in common with the actual event, when a scent hits his nose. He yips excitedly, sitting at attention as Lindsay sashays into the room, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

The others call out greetings, but Jeremy scrambles up and offers her the bracelet he’s been holding onto all evening.

Lindsay blinks but takes the offered jewelry, inspecting it with a careful tilt of her head and sharp eyes. Jeremy fidgets nervously, awaiting her judgement. When she looks up, her entire face lights up and she lets out a delighted trill.

“This is beautiful, little J,” she croons, holding up her arm for him to tie the bracelet onto. Jeremy beams as he does, settling at her feet after. The others watch them with befuddled amusement. Jeremy doesn’t care - Lindsay keeps scratching through his hair the rest of the night, sorting the strands this way and then that way. The bracelet on her wrist jingles softly as she inspects it a dozen times over, cooing in pleasure.

It’s the best reward of all.

 

* * *

 

Jeremy has always known Lindsay was special. It’s why he can’t get his head around her death.

“But I thought-” He breaks off, shaking his head in denial. “Lindsay’s like you. She’s immortal. Right?”

“Oh kiddo,” Geoff sighs, drawing him close. Jeremy clings to his alpha confused and dazed and hurting. “Some things aren’t meant to last. You’re young yet, but at some point… At some point you need to learn how to let go.”

Jeremy chokes on a sob, burying his face in the other’s neck. Alpha’s arms wrap around him, keeping him safe, but-

“How-” Jeremy croaks, clearing his throat. He tries to order his thoughts, but the realization is dawning slowly. “I thought… She knew so much. About us and people like us. How can she not be- why?”

“Shh, kid. It’ll be alright,” Geoff murmurs hoarsely, and Jeremy can smell the salty scent of tears in the air. “I know it hurts, and she’ll be missed, but we can figure this out, alright?”

Jeremy nods vaguely, closing his eyes. A shudder runs through him and a whimper escapes his throat. Alpha hushes him, fingers carding through his hair, like beta used to do, like Lindsay-

Except it isn’t her, it’s wrong _wrong_ ** _wrong_**. Lindsay’s life was snuffed out in a brilliant flash of fire, only leaving ashes behind. Like a vampire subjected to sunlight.

Jeremy sobs, and his world breaks around him.

**Author's Note:**

> Next up is probably Ryan's origin story and his relationship to Jeremy post-Lindsay's "death". (After, I might work on Ray or Gavin next, let me know what you think!)
> 
> Now with even [more aesthetic](http://miss-ingno.tumblr.com/post/146720786452/plaindealingvillainess-terms-and) because Lena is the best :D
> 
> and sorta [meta-pos](http://miss-ingno.tumblr.com/post/150696683682/late-to-the-party-selfloveday)t going into some subtle details I put into this story :D


End file.
